


Just for the Conversation

by msermesth



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Marvel Ultimates
Genre: 616 Steve / 616 Tony is endgame, Avengers Vol. 4 (2010), Double Penetration, Emotional Constipation, M/M, Oral Sex, Pining, Threesome - M/M/M, a very emotional threesome, post-Cataclysm, post-Siege
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-07 23:04:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13445298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msermesth/pseuds/msermesth
Summary: Tony's fine. He's back on the Avengers, Steve seems to have forgiven him, and he’s building Resilient to change the world.Then why is he so jealous of Steve’s new boyfriend?(Or: that awkward moment when you realize you are in love with your old best friend while having a three-way with him and his boyfriend, who just happens to be your counterpart from another universe.)





	Just for the Conversation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [magicasen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicasen/gifts).



> Check out the end notes if you want to know how more about how the pairings shakeout before reading.
> 
> This is set post-Siege, though Ults Tony (let's just call him Antonio) is post-Cataclysm. In this situation, Steve has just returned from the dead and is leading SHIELD while Tony is rebuilding his company after deleting his brain. Antonio, on the other hand, has just defeated Galactus—a fight which claimed the life of his own Steve.
> 
> Thanks [Morphia](http://archiveofourown.org/users/morphia/pseuds/morphia) for the amazing beta!

 “Tony, I’m so glad you could be here,” Steve says with a firm handshake and his other hand clasped on Tony’s shoulder.

Tony lets out a nervous chuckle he’s been holding in ever since he arrived on the deck of the helicarrier. “I was under the impression I didn’t have much choice in the matter.” At least that’s how he read Steve’s ‘ _SHIELD needs to see you immediately_ ’ message. He just wasn’t expecting this personal greeting from the commander himself.

“Still, it makes it a lot easier that we don’t have to find an alternative to doing this in person.” Steve begins to walk and Tony instinctively follows. It feels right being by Steve’s side.

But if his awkward silence is anything to go by, Steve doesn’t agree.

“Okay… what’s so urgent?” Tony asks, mostly because whatever is happening doesn’t seem that urgent at all. If anything, Steve is taking his time walking to what Tony recognizes as the helicarrier's medical wing.

Steve takes a moment to think about it, and looks around like he’s trying to find cue cards. When none magically appear, he begins, “You know how there are different versions of ourselves?”

Tony exaggerates lifting an eyebrow. “Steve, are you asking me if I understand the theory behind the multiverse?”

Steve smiles, it’s small and barely consequential, but given how frosty their relationship has been of late, Tony will take the win. “I’m just trying to set the stage. It turns out we found a… different you.”

“Huh.”

“And we wanted to run a few tests and confirm it’s a you from another universe, and not something or someone else,” Steve explains, quickly. They come to a stop in front of one of the examination rooms. “Just to make sure.”

They’re about to walk through the door when someone opens it for them, and that someone is…

Tony.

But not.

There are some ways the man in front of him _could_ be a mirror image of himself, but everything from the way he holds himself (loose and relaxed) to the way he smells (vodka and something unpleasantly medical) makes it a clear this is a very twisted mirror image.

“Antonio,” Steve says, and almost sounds as surprised as Tony is to see this… Antonio. If that’s what Steve’s going to call him, then Tony has no problem copying him.

“Oh, it's me! I love it.” Antonio exclaims and gives Tony an uncomfortable once over. “You knew just what I wanted, Steve.” He places a hand on Steve’s bicep, and something about the way he squeezes makes Tony think that his counterpart appreciates more than just Steve’s thoughtfulness.

“Yeah, well... we have, I mean... we need to run some tests,” Steve stammers and looks at the floor.  “You two don’t actually have to be in the same room to do this, I just figured you would want to meet each other.”

Antonio puts out his hand to shake, and Tony takes it despite a nagging feeling that he doesn’t want to. “What’s the plan?” Antonio asks and winks at Steve. “Am I going to get a full physical? Because if so, I trust you and _only you_ with an examination.”

Tony audibly gasps and then coughs to cover it up. Is that what he looks like when he flirts? Because Tony can’t tell if he’s impressed with how forward this man is, or appalled at it. But what’s really surprising is the way Steve blushes everywhere Tony can see and returns a look to Antonio that clearly communicates that he gets what he’s insinuating and he’s very interested.

Steve shifts from foot to foot and is clearly avoiding looking at Tony. “Well, we have trained SHIELD personnel to do those sorts of things, because I’m really only good for first-aid. But I could escort you, if you’d like?”

Antonio turns his head and says to Tony, “A gorgeous _and_ a gracious host, what more can a man ask for?”

Tony’s stomach drops to his knees, or some approximation of that based on the feeling he’s trying to pretend isn’t there.

Steve gets over what’s keeping him from actually looking at Tony and says, with enough shame that Tony’s sure he knows how this looks, “It was nice seeing you, Tony.”

And then they walk out of the examination room, leaving Tony to receive a full physical from trained SHIELD doctors, while he contemplates the weird and unexpected dread of watching a man that could possibly, maybe be him, successfully flirt with Steve Rogers.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Tony doesn’t see Steve that often these days. He’s too busy leading SHIELD and running the secret Avengers’ team that Tony isn’t supposed to know about, while Tony spends a lot of time trying to get Resilient off the ground while still doing the Iron Man thing.

That doesn’t mean Tony doesn’t hear the rumors going around.

Natasha tells him, “We ran a mission with Antonio last week. He and Steve get along like old friends.” Then she pulls him in a big hug he doesn’t want, but very much needs.

Carol tells him, “The best way to put this is just to say they’re spending a lot of time together.”

Rhodey tells him, “They are definitely fucking.”

Tony sighs. “How do you know?”

“ _Everyone_ knows. They can’t keep their hands off each other. It’s weird. Is it weird for you?”

Tony’s stomach clenches and his jaw sets and he doesn’t want to be sitting here but he doesn’t want to be anywhere else. “Why would I care about who Steve sleeps with?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

It’s not a secret that Tony is in love with Steve. The entire world knows this. The entire _universe_ knows this. It’s one of those immutable facts.  Force equals mass times speed and the earth spins on its axis around the sun and Tony Stark loves Steve Rogers.

But Tony doesn’t _love-_ love Steve. He may use ‘Captain America’ as his password for anything he can get away with or break down at his funeral (he’s seen the YouTube videos), but he doesn’t get jealous of Steve’s romantic partners.

If he could fix everything between them, he’d bring back their late night chats and inside jokes, but he wouldn’t date him.

(Not that he’s spent any time imagining what it would be like to _date_ Steve).

He wants to be with Steve, not _be with_ Steve.

Because it’s different if maybe, sometimes, at least in the beginning, Tony wondered if Steve sat so close to him for a reason. It’s pathetic.

When you love someone the way Tony loves Steve, for as long as Tony has loved Steve, wanting romance on top of that is pitiful.

So Tony doesn’t. And the thought that maybe he could hasn’t crossed his mind in years.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Tony only sees Steve when his Avengers’ team must coordinate with SHIELD. He simultaneously cherishes and hates these moments.

“Tony, it’s good to see you,” Steve says, like he always does, and Tony can see the effort.

“Likewise,” Tony responds, because that’s a casual way of saying how he feels.

Then, like a splash of ice-cold reality, Antonio flies in wearing his own Iron Man suit. “Tony! There you are. I feel like I never see you. Unless I’m looking in the mirror, of course.”

“Which is often enough,” Steve adds in and the aside sounds so fucking familiar and domestic Tony closes his eyes behind the faceplate.

“Oh darling, you know me so well.” Antonio flips the faceplate up and plants a kiss on Steve’s cowled cheek. Tony make a noise that isn’t translated through the voice modulator.

Steve’s eyes hit the ground and despite the honest smile on his face he chides, “Antonio, not in front of…” and he waves his hand to indicate the rest of the Avengers, but Tony has a feeling Steve is really referring to him.

“Oh, it’s fine,” Tony lies, and then because he can’t stop, “I’m happy for the both of you, really.”

Tony can feel the heat of Steve’s gaze on his skin and he shifts under the scrutiny. There is something _odd_ in the way Steve is looking at him. He almost looks like the idea of Tony being happy for him hurts. It’s that, or Steve knows he’s lying. It’s probably the lying thing.

Antonio picks up on whatever weird energy is bouncing around and says, “Well, I need a drink. Tony, I’d love to see your workshop, maybe grab a coffee and see what you’re working on.”

“Yes, why not? Have your people call my people,” Tony dully responds and is at least glad Antonio didn’t invite him for martinis. He really doesn’t have any interest in actually getting to know his other self any better.

But then Tony gives Antonio’s armor another look, and decides he’d suffer it if it means getting to take that armor apart.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“It’s not paranoid,” Tony grumbles as switches form video feed to video feed.

“It’s creepy,” FRIDAY says, and Tony’s amazed how judgemental she can sound.

“Someone has to keep SHIELD in line.” It isn’t as if Tony is looking at anything private. Checking in on the meeting spaces on the helicarrier is just good sense given the rumors of agents still sympathetic to Norman Osborn. And Steve can use all the help he can get, even if he never asks for it.

“Whatever you say, boss.” In his mind, he can see FRIDAY roll her eyes.

FRIDAY is somewhat right, of course. Tony already has enough computing power sifting through SHIELD’s dirty secrets. Going through the feeds manually is probably some small penance for the mess he can’t remember making when he was in charge.

Probably. He’s trying not to think about it too much.

He lingers only for a second or two on each feed before moving to the next one while he fiddles with upgrades for the War Machine armor. People eat in the cafeteria, train in the gym, and plan for whatever they have coming up next.

He stops because he sees movement in the corner of the frame. “FRIDAY, can you pan to whatever that is?”

Tony drops the new prototype goggles he’s been working on.

He’s looking down at two men fucking. _Fucking_ is the best word for it, at least. One of them, the brunet, is bent over the conference table, and the other is ramming into their ass like the answer to life’s biggest problems is somewhere deep inside.

Something about the tuft of blonde hair on top of a navy blue form-fitting uniform looks familiar… but it couldn’t be… and then the man shoved against the table looks up, his face scrunched in such a way that made it very clear he was enjoying himself and...

“FRIDAY, OFF!” Tony screams and the entire workshop rattles with the sound.  “What the fuck…”

 _So that’s what that would look like, huh?_ he thinks and then tries to push the image out of his head and stop his rapidly growing erection.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Steve was right,” says a voice behind Tony that he isn’t expecting. It sounds so much like him, and so different, at the same time. There is something about the way Antonio puts together sentences and emphasizes words that always throws Tony off. “He knew I’d find you here.”

“In the workshop?” Tony responds and it drips with sarcasm. These days, if Tony isn’t out with the Avengers team or in Seattle, he’s in the workshop.

Tony turns back to what he was working on and lets Antonio be as he studies anything and everything lying around. “This looks fun,” Tony hears, followed by an expected shock and yelp of pain.

When he looks over to see Antonio, gingerly holding his burnt hand but smiling like a madman, he asks, “Are you surprised?”

“I’d expect nothing less.” Antonio walks around, examining a few more of the odds and ends sitting around the workshop until he eventually is standing right next to Tony. “I have a proposition for you,” he purrs and it sounds ominous and enticing.

Tony pretends he’s never seen the man screaming in pleasure.

“Yeah?” Tony prompts him to continue and fears what exactly is going to follow.

“Would you be interested in a threesome with Captain America?” Antonio asks and it’s so casual that Tony almost assumes he said something else.

Tony replays the words in his head a couple of times and then it feels like his heart stops. “I love Bucky, but like a brother, you know?” he says, because _what the fuck_ , and he needs a moment to collect his thoughts.

Antonio knows him and just continues with his proposition. “I was thinking last week, while I was wrist-deep in his ass, that Steve could actually handle two of me, and it turns out that...” He winks at Tony and Tony reflexively shivers, which is more unexpected than the way his skin crawls immediately after. “I happen to have another me just lying around.”

What Tony should be doing is shutting this down, unequivocally.  But instead, he asks “Does Steve know about this?” because his mind is stuck on the image of Steve handling _two_ of them.

“Of course.”

“And he said yes?” _This is just the world’s most confusing sex dream,_ Tony thinks. He’s just about to wake up to a regrettable erection.

“He came harder than I’ve ever seen.” Antonio’s face twists with something like pride, but there is also something darker, something that reminds Tony of the feeling of waking up hungover. “And then the next morning he asked if I was serious.” Antonio stops talking and the whole room isn’t just noiseless but painfully quiet. “What can I say? I want to make his dreams come true.”

Tony racks his brain for something to say to that, but nothing comes, so they stand there and wait for the other to make the first move. “I need to think about it,” Tony finally chokes out to break the tension.

Antonio arches a disbelieving eyebrow, and he’s right. Tony’s already made his decision. “Well, have your people call my people.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Tony knocks on the fourth attempt. “Tony, it’s good to see you,” Steve says as he opens the hotel door. Tony stands there, feeling awkward and unable to step through the threshold now that he’s staring at Steve’s face. Why does he always have to look so fucking _genuine_ whenever he greets Tony?

Antonio is having none of his hesitation, however, and pulls the door completely open so the California King bed is on display. He has nothing on but a silk robe and matching silk boxers. The pure decadence of it makes Tony feel underdressed, even if his best pair of jeans and a carefully chosen plain t-shirt are considerably nicer than the ratty sweatpants Steve is wearing.

“Come on in!” Antonio says with a salesman’s flourish and Tony is uncomfortable with how familiar that gesture feels.

Despite all of the voices in his head telling him to run away, Tony follows through because he’s been hard on-and-off since this morning and he can’t fight the image of Steve spread across the bed.

They’re in a suite of the Four Seasons, a choice presumably made by Antonio and not Steve. It’s opulent and modern and somehow still comfortable. This, of course, has never been Steve’s aesthetic, but he stands there like he used to stand in the mansion—as if he’s there not because he belongs with the extravagance, but because he believes in the cause.

Tony closes the door behind him and it shuts louder than he expected. An acute anxiety has been accompanying his intermittent erection all day and at this point he’s sure he can’t have one without the other. Steve’s regarding him—he can see it out of the corner of his eye—but Tony is forcibly keeping his gaze locked on Antonio. Otherwise, the temptation would be too great to look south of Steve’s face and stare at the obvious bulge straining against his cotton pants.

He’s just about to ask how this is supposed to work when Antonio opens his mouth first, and says, “I think I’ve bought everything we need.” He motions around the room and Tony notices that there are pitchers of ice water by the bed, right next to what looks like almost every type of lube that has ever been produced. It’s not as if Tony was worried that he had the wrong impression of what was going to happen, but the sight still makes his stomach somersault.

“Always be prepared,” Steve says, and he chuckles. There is something off about his voice, like he can’t get a full breath of air, and Tony really doesn’t want to remember what Steve sounds like when he’s turned on.

Tony looks between the two of them, feeling lost and confused. He’s regretting the well-fitted jeans; he’s completely hard now. “The last time I did this, I was… how can I say it… pretty inebriated.” In the corner of his eye, Tony sees Steve nod once—he understands the implication. For Tony, it’s been a long time.

Antonio grins. He’s the only one in the room who looks comfortable at the moment. “Trust me, I have enough experience for the both of us.” Without waiting another awkward moment, he steps forward and wraps his hand behind Tony’s neck. It’s smooth. Tony has used this move before, has waited those two beats to stare into his partner's eyes, given them a moment of anticipation and watched the way they squirmed. And then, Antonio’s mouth is on his, and his van dyke brushes against Tony’s and his lips taste like toothpaste and he kisses like it’s a lost art he’s made it his life work to restore.

Tony sighs into it and kisses back, wraps an arm around Antonio’s waist to make it easier to bring him closer. Steve makes a sound Tony has no comparison for. It comes from the back of his throat, high and broken, and Tony files it away against his better judgment and takes it as encouragement to kiss Antonio harder. Steve repeats the noise, and Tony promises himself to never use the memory.

“Steve…” Antonio says as he pulls his mouth away just far enough to move his lips. He sounds as wrecked as Tony is, and something about it makes Tony wrap his arm around Antonio tighter. “Get over here. I need your help.”

Tony’s not sure what Antonio means by that, but Steve must, because he crowds Tony’s back until he’s so close Tony can feel his hard cock against his clothed ass. He tries desperately not to grind against it and must forcibly clamp down a shiver when Steve kisses the back of his neck. They haven’t moved past kissing, but Tony can’t catch a full breath of air between Antonio’s mouth and the feeling of Steve’s hands—big, strong, and everything he’s never imagined—begin to wrap around the space Tony’s shirt meets his pants.

This is why he said yes, of course. He needed to know what those hands would feel like on his bare skin; now that he knows, he’s going to have a very hard time forgetting.

Steve’s movements are hesitant and his fingers are trembling as they creep up and trace the dips of Tony’s abdominal muscles. Tony moans right into Antonio’s mouth and on instinct he stretches his neck to the left so that Steve can mouth at the tendon there. Maybe it’s all those years wordlessly communicating in the field, but Steve knows exactly what he wants and happily follows through while continuing to aimlessly stoke Tony’s chest. Even though he'd determined he wouldn’t, Tony rocks back onto Steve's groin and is blessed—or cursed—with the gasp that comes out of Steve's mouth, just inches from his ear.

Antonio breaks off the kiss and steps just far enough away that they aren’t touching anymore. “You are wearing far too many clothes, darling,” he says, looking proud for some reason Tony can’t understand. Steve tugs at the bottom of Tony’s shirt and lifts it up until Tony has no choice by to raise his arms and let Steve remove it. He stands there for a second, exposed and laid bare, and there isn’t any chance that they don’t know he likes it.

How is Tony ever going to be able to look Steve in the eye after this?

Tony’s eyes find a spot in the carpet and he focuses on it like it can give him the guidance he needs. “Steve, why don’t you sit on the bed? I have an idea,” Antonio says. Steve looks as unsure as Tony feels. Maybe that’s the saving grace of this situation. Maybe all the awkwardness will cancel itself out in the end. Maybe this will be a secret they’ll both get to share.

Maybe Tony will just have to move to Seattle permanently.

Tony finally lifts his gaze when he hears the sound of the bed’s springs creak under Steve’s weight and he inexplicably moans. Steve’s flushed, his eyes dark and unfocused, and his chest is heaving more than it does after running a marathon. The way his pecs move up and down is memorizing, and Tony only tears his eyes away when he notices how Steve’s looking at him. There is so much in that look, Tony couldn’t begin to untangle it.

Antonio goes to Steve and kneels in front of him before pulling off his sweatpants. Steve’s cock bounces once freed, and it’s huge and hard enough that it’s standing straight at attention. Antonio throws the sweatpants at Tony, who is almost too distracted to catch them, and mischievously says, “Come here. It’s your turn to help.”

Tony’s feet are on autopilot, moving before he tells them to do anything, and he doesn’t need to be told to kneel beside Antonio. It’s a tall bed and it makes sure that Tony is almost eye level with Steve’s cock. At this position he can see the way precome leaves a shiny dampness on the tip and Tony’s mind immediately supplies the image of himself bending over and tasting it. He looks at Antonio, and he nods yes. Then, almost reluctantly, he looks up at Steve and silently asks for permission. Steve holds his gaze and he reaches out to tenderly rubs Tony’s cheek. “You don’t have to,” he says and there is genuine concern in his voice. Tony would do anything to assure Steve that, yes, he wants this, but there is no way he can say those words out loud. He’s only just accepted he can even think them.

So, instead he leans forward and opens his mouth just enough that the tip of Steve’s cock slips in easily. Tony feels the hand on his cheek stiffen with the accompanying moan, and he moans himself, unable to filter that sound as anything besides pleasure. Steve's cock slips even further down, and wow, it’s been a while since Tony’s done this and normally he _wouldn’t care_ , but it’s very important to him right now that this is good for Steve. He tries to take it a little further and lifts his gaze so he can stare at Steve with his best approximation of ‘bedroom eyes’, but then Steve hits the back of his throat and he has to pull away to cough.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks and if there was concern in his voice before, now there is outright worry.

“I’m... ahem… fine,” Tony says after he takes a few deep breaths. “Just a little out of practice.”

“We can stop, if you want…” Steve tries to reassure him. He’s still stroking his thumb against Tony’s cheek as Tony tries to catch his breath.

“No,” Tony says, with more conviction than he had wanted to use.

Antonio places a steading hand on Tony’s bare back and rubs his hand in comforting circles. “I have an idea,” he says and winks at Tony. Without explaining further, he takes Steve in hand and licks a long strip from the base of Steve’s cock to the tip. He then nods at Tony to do the same. Tony does and takes a moment to mouth at the tip when he reaches it. Steve makes a sound in the back of his throat and he moves the hand on Tony’s cheek to the bed, where Tony can tell he's gripping hard on the bedspread. Steve leans his weight back so that he’s almost staying upright via his grip on the bed. His eyes are closed and he’s bouncing, almost imperceptibly, against the mattress.

Antonio and him are taking turns using their lips and tongues to coax whatever sounds they can out of Steve. Tony’s sure he can’t remember the last time he was this turned on. Antonio reaches out into Tony’s lap and begins to palm at the uncomfortable bulge in Tony’s jeans. That just makes Tony moan and without questioning the impulse, he reciprocates the gesture and rubs his hand against Antonio’s silk boxers.

“Oh, fuck,” Steve says—the first words he’s said this entire time—and his hand rests on Tony’s face again. Tony lets the tip of Steve’s cock bump against the inside of his cheek so Steve can feel it and Steve just repeats his earlier statement. Slipping his hand under the waistband, Tony runs his hand up and down Antonio’s length before letting Steve fall out of his mouth and giving Antonio a turn that he takes eagerly. Tony is beginning to feel a strange and intoxicating confidence. For the first time since Antonio showed up in this universe, he has his feet on solid ground. Or maybe, more accurately, he’s learned to swim with the current.

Tony presses a light kiss on the inside of Steve’s thigh and rubs it absentmindedly. The sight of Steve like this—almost broken with pleasure—makes his proud.

Antonio tightens his hold on Tony’s dick and Tony moans against the skin he’s been resting against. “Yes,” Steve gasps and Tony wishes he had the experience that would have told him if Steve was close. Instead, he shoots Antonio a look, who lazily reads his mind and nods in the affirmative around Steve’s cock before it falls out of his mouth and Tony takes it himself. He sucks hard and relishes in the way Steve is rocking against the bed. The hand resting against Tony’s face grips just a little harder and Steve whispers “Tony…” before he comes right down the back of Tony’s throat. Steve almost immediately tries to push him away, but Tony maintains his hold, wanting to stay right there until Steve’s done.

He finally takes his mouth off Steve’s cock—surprisingly, still semi-hard—and looks up at to see Steve taking gasping breaths and looking somewhat awed at the way Tony wipes the come dripping out of the side of his mouth. “I’m so sorry,” Steve says, barely above a hoarse whisper, and he doesn’t _look_ sorry. “I meant to say something. You didn’t have to… swallow.” He says the last word like it’s dirty, and Tony supposes it could be, but in context, swallowing Steve’s come is probably the least filthy thing he’s done since he’s walked into this hotel.

Antonio moves his hand from Tony’s crotch and wipes a drip of it that’s fallen on Tony’s chest before bringing it to Tony’s mouth. Tony’s not sure when the two of them entered this strange mindmeld, but Tony knows immediately what he wants to do, and sucks the come off Antonio’s finger. Steve’s chest shakes in a way that might be concerning, but Antonio just smiles and says, “See? It was his pleasure.”

Steve nods his head, but it doesn’t look like he understands. Tony lifts his hand and rubs his waist in a reassuring caress, and then uses it to steady himself as he stands up. Steve’s hands go immediately to the buttons of Tony's jeans and after some fumbling, he manages to slip them down. Tony eagerly toes them off, along with his shoes and socks, and doesn’t even wait for Steve to pull down his briefs. Antonio follows and his robe and boxers fall on the floor. He shimmies behind Tony, and there’s no mistaking that his erection is poking right into the small of Tony’s back.

Without warning, Antonio’s hands find Tony’s cock and Tony rocks back against Antonio’s. That uncomfortable—but not unwanted—feeling of being on display returns, so he twists his neck to kiss Antonio at the awkward angle. Antonio does, but it doesn’t last long, and before his hand finds any real rhythm, he pulls away, turns Tony around, and pushes him lightly on the bed so that he’s laying on his back right next to where Steve is sitting.

Steve twists around, and _wow_ , he’s as hard as he was before. “Time for the main event?” Antonio asks and Tony reluctantly looks away from Steve.

“You have a plan?” Tony asks, because he’s been wondering about the logistics since five minutes after Antonio left his workshop.

“I do,” Antonio confirms, smiling mischievously. “Steve sandwich?” Steve cocks an eyebrow, but doesn’t look particularly repulsed for the idea. “You on the bottom, Steve in the middle, and me on top,” he says and layers his hands over each other as if he’s explaining how to actually make a sandwich and not how to stuff two cocks into one supersoldier.

Tony takes a deep breath and adjusts himself so that he’s laying on the middle of the bed and Steve turns all the way around and gets on his hands and knees. If Tony wanted to, he could compare the way Steve slowly crawls over, his gaze never wavering from Tony’s, to an animal stalking its prey. However, he’s lost enough higher brain function to care.

Steve settles on top of him, and the presence is nothing compared to way Steve is still looking at him. There’s a focus there that Tony almost wants to wilt under, a scrutiny he’s sure he’ll never be able to measure up to, but _he’s Tony_ and _this is Steve_ , so he firms up his gaze and takes the challenge. “What are you waiting for?” he asks and makes sure the words sound cocky and confident.

Steve smiles, laughs, and shakes his head. “For you, always for you,” he says under his breath and he leans down and kisses Tony. Tony can feel his nerves and hesitance, but there is also a determination that feels so very _him_. Tony twines his fingers through Steve’s hair and just holds him there, trying to soak in the way Steve’s tongue slides against his lower lip.

Steve breaks off the kiss and Tony wants to protest, but he is stopped by the way Steve gets up on his knees and reaches behind himself. His eyes fall close before scrunching together, and it takes Tony a moment to realize the _pop_ he just heard was Steve pulling out a butt plug. Antonio happily takes it out of his hand and gives him a small tube of lube, which Steve takes no time squirting on his fingers before reaching behind himself, again.

Tony watches the way he takes deep breaths as he works himself open and he’s glad he’s never imagined this before Antonio arrived. He’s not sure he’d ever be able to stand next to Steve if he had been fantasizing about what Steve’s face looks like when he’s fingering himself.

Antonio gets up on the bed and walks over on his knees to Steve’s side. Steve acknowledges his presence with a nod and then looks at Tony. “Can I?” he asks and Tony doesn’t think, but he also can’t _say it_ , so he just nods and hopes Steve knows how much he wants this. Steve nods back and there is something sad or wistful in his smile, something Tony wants to kiss away.

Without another word, Steve lifts himself and grabs Tony to line them up before he slowly sinks down. An “oh” escapes from Tony’s mouth without his permission because Steve is so fucking _there_ and around him and despite this not being his first time, Tony just isn’t prepared for what this is going to feel like.

Steve leans back on his hands and lifts himself up by arching his back before slowly moving himself down again. He tries that a couple of times until he finds his mark, biting his bottom lip with a moan. Tony swears that there’s a little bit of showmanship in the way Steve’s rocking back and forth and making sounds that should be illegal every time he bottoms out. Tony wants to imagine Steve is doing it for him—that he’s exaggerating because he wants it to be good for Tony—and it makes him feel like he’s the only one in the room.

It’s not Antonio that breaks the moment, but Tony’s own building pleasure. It is with great reluctance that he reaches forward and taps on Steve’s thigh to get his attention and Steve opens his eyes. “If you keep that up, I might not last the night.” He looks to Antonio, who is holding the bottle of lube and has that manic gleam in his eye that Tony’s been told he gets when he’s had a breakthrough.

“I got you two,” Antonio says and gently pushes Steve down so that his mouth is inches from Tony’s face. Steve kisses him again and Tony feels a strange pressure where his dick is buried in Steve’s ass. “You ready?” Antonio asks.

Steve moves his mouth just enough that he can say, “yes,” and Tony feels a slick finger wedged against his dick. “Fuck,” Steve spits out and Tony runs his hand up and down Steve’s side.

“You okay?” he asks Steve.

Steve takes a few steadying breaths. “Yes… I like it,” he says and it sounds like he’s ashamed to admit it.

Tony doesn’t know how to tell him he has nothing to be ashamed of, so he just lifts his head and kisses Steve. Antonio is slowly moving his finger and it feels odd, but Tony is distracted by the way Steve moans every time Antonio gets a little deeper.

“Another,” Steve eventually asks, and Tony’s not sure how he knows he’s ready. It _feels_ really tight in there. Antonio must be as far gone for him as Tony is, because he obliges and the pressure of two fingers slowly slipping in makes Tony’s breath catch. Antonio is using enough lube that it’s making an obscene sloshing sound with every movement of his fingers. After a few minutes, Steve grunts, “another,” and Tony looks at him, surprised.

“You sure?” Antonio asks, but it sounds more like a courtesy than concern. Tony supposes he has more experience with Steve’s body, anyway.

“Yeah. Please,” Steve responds before dipping down again to kiss Tony.

Antonio is slower and gentler with the third, and Tony is thankful for it. Steve can’t seem to kiss him anymore, and is instead breathing heavily into his shoulder and every once in a while emitting a deep sound from the back of his throat. Tony not sure how long it goes on—it’s almost too overwhelming of an experience to be pleasurable—but eventually Steve twists his head and says into Tony’s ear, “I always assumed... _yes_ ... you would never want to... _fuck..._ to do something like...like this.”

Tony’s mind is hazy and Steve’s words take time to settle in. Once they finally do, he says, “I’d tell you to shove your assumptions up your ass, Steve. But I’m not sure there is any more room.”

Steve laughs and his body shakes with it. Tony feels it against his stomach and around his dick and deep somewhere in his heart. It’s a sound he’s wanted to hear so much, a sound that reminds him when everything was right in their relationship, even when everything else in the world was wrong. It is complete hyperbole, but for Tony it’s like stumbling along in Antarctica only to find a hot glass of the best coffee he’s ever tasted.

“I missed you. I missed you... _so much_ ,” Steve says and somehow he’s still laughing despite the way his breath is catching.

That makes Tony feel warm and squishy. He kisses Steve’s cheek and says, “You seem to be doing just fine without me,” he says and jerks his head in the direction of Antonio.

He means it as a joke, given that Tony has an almost carbon copy with three fingers in Steve’s ass, but Steve lifts his head and narrows his eyes and Tony doesn’t need to be told he just said something wrong. “Steve,” he tries, though he’s not sure how to salvage the situation _at all_ , because Steve ignores him, shuts his eyes tight, and lifts himself up on his elbows so that he can use the leverage to rock back on Antonio’s fingers.

“I’m ready,” he announces after a few times.

“Whatever you say, darling,” Antonio replies and removes his fingers, and Tony, surprisingly, misses the weird pressure of his knuckles. Tony can hear the squirt of lube as he feels the bed move while Antonio adjusts himself so that he is directly behind Steve and straddling Tony’s thighs. Antonio is using so much it drips over Tony’s legs and makes him shiver. “Steve, gorgeous,” Antonio says right as Tony feels something blunt where his cock meets Steve’s asshole, “I need you to tell me if you’re in pain, okay?”

Steve’s still rocking back like he could swallow up Antonio’s cock if he just used enough force and the action of him rocking makes his cock bounce off Tony’s abs. Tony expects him to bite out some sort of challenge or a comforting lie, but instead he says, “I will, I promise.”

Tony closes his eyes and tries to breathe deep as Antonio slowly pushes in. He hears Steve make a sound deep in his throat that sounds something like a deep pleasurable whine, and Antonio begins chanting, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” as if it’s an incantation. Tony just takes a deep and unsteady breath, having reached a plateau some time ago where everything feels so good he almost would prefer to just be stuck in the moment instead of building up to an orgasm.

It’s tight and Tony can’t even tell if it’s on the good or bad side of tight. There’s a moment of stillness Tony tries to file away somewhere deep in his brain. It’s just the product of the overwhelming amount of pleasure and vulnerability, but it feels warm and light and something good, something right.

And then, trying to chase that emotion, he places a steadying hand on Steve’s side and it all shatters. Steve whispers, “yes,” and he begins to push himself back. At first it’s slow and controlled, but after a few times he must find a rhythm, because then it’s quick and merciless.

“Fuck,” Antonio almost screams.

Tony opens his eyes and watches Steve. He’s biting his lip, face screwed up and eyes shut in concentration. It doesn’t look like he’s uncomfortable, but there is something about his determination that makes Tony want to reach out, stroke his cheek, and tell him it’s going to be okay; that they’ll get there and to just give it time.

He doesn’t, however, because he doesn’t know how to say those words to Steve. Not anymore. Not when Steve looks like he’s decided to shut them both out. Instead, Tony focuses on the way that orgasm, which felt so distant before, is beginning to build with the movement of Antonio’s dick against his.

Tony grips the sheets, but it’s not substantial enough. Instead he twists his arm above his head along the one Steve is using to brace himself and grabs Steve’s hand, held in a tight fist. Steve opens his eyes at that and looks at straight at Tony and Tony doesn’t know what to do besides watch him and feel himself getting closer. “I’m… I’m almost there,” he says, and for some reason it feels like a confession.

Steve drops down, just a little bit, so he still has the leverage he needs to keep rocking himself back, and kisses Tony’s collarbone. “Please,” he says, and Tony has no idea what he means or what he’s asking for, but he just continues to repeat it, “please… please… _oh, yes_ … please.”

Tony grips harder and imagines pulling Steve so close there isn’t an inch of skin he isn’t touching. He feels a movement against his stomach and realizes at some point Antonio began to fiercely pump Steve’s cock. Steve is wetly moaning against his neck and he keeps asking for something, and Tony would give anything to provide it if he could, but all Tony has to give Steve is their broken history and a love so strong, it’s survived war and death. “Steve,” Tony says, and he hopes it’s soft enough that Steve can’t hear it over Antonio’s gasps and the sounds of flesh hitting flesh because he’s not sure what he would do if is Steve ever wanted that.

The orgasm hits him like a punch to the gut and Tony’s glad he’s already on his back, because he’s sure he wouldn’t be able to keep himself up in any other position. He’s sure he makes a sound when it happens, but mostly he can just focus on losing all rhythm and the way the sensation rolls through the inside of his body like a wave. By the time it’s over, Steve’s shaking and he looks seconds away from finishing himself.

It’s getting uncomfortable, but Tony focuses on rubbing his hand up and down Steve’s arm and he feels Antonio’s hand moving vigorously. That seems to break Steve out of whatever trance he’s under, and he raises his head just enough to look at Tony and then back at Antonio before clenching up and coming silently across Tony’s abs.

Antonio doesn’t stop fucking him as Steve comes down from his orgasm, trembling in Tony’s arms, but once Steve is just reduced to heavy breathing, he pulls out. Tony can hear desperate gasps, but it’s not until he hears a loud moan followed by something wet on his thigh does he realize Antonio finished himself off and came on Steve’s ass.

And Tony supposes that some of that come dripping onto his thigh is his, too. He chuckles to himself—he’s too wrung out to see the situation as anything other than funny—and wraps his arms around Steve’s shoulders, which rise and fall slowly as he takes deep breaths and just focuses on that. Steve’s heavy, but Tony just accepts the possibility that he might slowly suffocate under his weight. Surely, there aren’t many better ways to die. He doesn’t notice that Antonio must have walked away, but he does notice when he returns and pushes Steve off of Tony before wiping them both down.

“Mission successful?” Antonio asks and Tony thinks he has way too much higher brain function if he can form that question.

Steve nods into Tony’s shoulder and mutters something he can’t hear.

Antonio sits on the bed and tenderly strokes Steve’s hair. “What’s that?”

Steve rolls over onto his back and without his body heat, Tony shivers. “I like being alive,” Steve says and he looks over at Tony with a quarter smile that feels bigger than any other expression could be; Tony is certain the way his chest swells with something warm is not just a byproduct of that orgasm.

 _I’m fucked_ , he thinks. _In more ways than one._

Antonio pours a glass of water and takes a long drink before handing it to Steve, who struggles to shimmy up enough on the bed so that he can sip it. Tony takes a glass of his own and tries to train his sight on the beautiful bouquet of flowers by the door, and not the naked, blissed-out supersolider on his right or his naked, smug counterpart on the left. All his blood is beginning to return to the rest of his body and with it comes a sensation of _holy fuck, what am I going to do?_

Steve hands over his glass and slips back down on to the bed. He looks exhausted but content in a way Tony isn’t used to seeing, and Tony can’t help himself from running his fingers through his hair. Steve moans, quiet enough to be a purr, and leans his head towards Tony. And he lets him, because Tony is a weak man who would rather watch the way Steve’s eyes flutter shut than do the responsible thing and find a way to leave earth. Maybe SWORD has an opening.

At some point, Tony realizes Steve is asleep, and he knows it’s time to make his exit. Antonio has disappeared again—he’s surprisingly quiet for someone so loud—and at least this way, there will be less to explain. He gathers his clothes quickly and ducks into the bathroom to rinse his face, but doesn’t expect to almost trip over a set of legs on the floor.

“I thought you were asleep,” Antonio says, and he curls his legs to his chest to let Tony get through. Tony looks at him, trying to make sense of this strange person who has arrived to upend his life, and finally decides he’s unhappy with the melancholy glint that sits behind Antonio’s facade.

He sits down on the tile floor opposite him and says, “I thought you left.”

Antonio leans back against the counter. “Soon. Just need a little…” he says and lifts up a flask as a way of finishing the sentence. For a second Tony’s sure Antonio’s going to offer him whatever he’s drinking, but he takes a big swig instead and puts it back down on the floor next to him. “Steve only had one condition for tonight.”

Tony lets out a deep breath and doesn’t need any more explanation. “How long have you been sober?”

“Seven hours,” Antonio answers without giving himself a second to think about it. He sighs and the smile falters and for the first time since they’ve met, Tony _understands_. “It wasn’t ever going to last.”

That hits Tony without warning. “You and Steve?”

“I’m breaking up with him tomorrow,” Antonio continues.

“Why?!” Tony almost shrieks.

“He has you, now.” Antonio takes another long drink and Tony tries not to watch.

“No, he doesn’t.” The words tumble out of his mouth like he’s trying to defend himself.

“Steve loves you, Tony.” For Antonio it’s a simple fact.

Tony wishes it was that simple. “No, _he doesn’t_ ,” he repeats.

“Steve loves you,” Antonio says again and the way he says it makes Tony feel like he won’t accept any arguments. “I know it, the rest of the world knows it. I assume the rest of the universe knows it. It’s just an immutable fact. Like the boiling point of water or E equals M C squared.”

“I don’t…” Tony begins, but he can’t finish that sentence. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Steve is laughing and smiling that beautiful quarter-smile and it’s all for him. Tony doesn’t want to shake that image out of his head.

Antonio seems to know Tony can’t say it aloud and continues on, “He thought I was the closest thing he was ever going to get to you. He was using me.” Antonio picks up the flask and stares at it like it has all the answers. “And that’s okay! I was doing the exact same thing, if we’re being honest.”

Tony wants to jump to Steve’s defense, but he can’t in good faith. Instead, he doesn’t say anything, and Antonio doesn’t say anything and it’s just… quiet. Sitting on the floor of a hotel bathroom across from a mirror-version of himself feels familiar.

It feels a little like reflection.

Tony breaks the silence with a question that’s been sitting on the edges of his mind since Antonio left the workshop. “Why did you invite me to a threesome?”

Antonio raises an eyebrow. “It’s always been a fantasy of mine to double-team Steve Rogers with a carbon-copy of myself.”

That makes Tony disappointed in his own imagination. “Did it live up to your expectations?”

“Oh, it was great, but the fantasy was better.” Antonio pauses and takes another drink. Even with his tolerance, Tony knows Antonio is going to be sloshed soon. “Also, I was hoping it would help the two of you get your heads out of your asses.”

“You used a threesome to set us up?”

“Win-win,” Antonio says like it explains everything.

It’s quiet again until Tony decides to say, “You know, if you want to go back to your own universe, you should talk to Reed. He could help you.

But Antonio just replies, “Have you ever been to space?”

Tony studies the tile. He doesn’t know why Antonio has decided to stay here, but he knows an attempt to change the subject when he sees it. “Why? Because SWORD might have an opening.”

Antonio nods and begins to lift himself off the floor. “It seems like I have some calls to make.”

Tony tries to offer a steadying hand, but Antonio doesn’t have any problems steadying himself. Maybe his tolerance is actually _that good_. “Maybe…” Tony nods his head back at Steve, “The three of us could do this again?”

Antonio laughs and it looks real. “I knew we were the same person. And I’d love to come by and take apart your armor sometime.”

“I’d like that,” Tony says and he really means it. He thinks back to Antonio’s comments about only using Steve. “I’m sure your Steve loves you, too.”

Antonio shrugs. “He’s dead, so we’ll never know.” And then he gathers the rest of his clothes and walks out the door of the hotel suite, leaving Tony alone in horror. _CAPTAIN AMERICA ASSASSINATED_ reads headlines he doesn’t remember seeing in the original print. A phantom pain, identical to one he felt when he learned about Steve’s death, grows in his chest.

Tony turns around and looks back. Steve’s chest rises and falls as he steadily breathes and Tony’s glad for the reminder that Steve is alive and right there.

Maybe Antonio is wrong about Steve and him.

Tony walks back to the bed and carefully inches himself next to Steve. _I’m so glad you’re still here_ , he thinks, and pulls himself closer. Steve stirs, but doesn’t wake up, and Tony just watches and hopes that someday he can drape his arm across Steve’s chest and kiss his collarbone before falling asleep.

Because maybe Antonio is right.

  


* * *

  


The first thing Steve registers is how sore his body feels, but he remembers immediately why. He clenches his butt, checking for an injury and is happy to realize that there isn’t anything obvious, but it’s not just that. His arms, thighs, back, and abs burn with exertion and he feels like jelly all over.

Steve’s internal body-exam is cut short by the sound of someone breathing right next to him. His mind first jumps to Antonio, but then he realizes it is just as likely to be Tony, and his breath catches with mortification. This is the part he had been trying to avoid thinking about ever since Antonio has suggested the events of last night, and he’s afraid to begin the stage of his relationship with Tony where they can’t look each other in the eye.

And just when everything was starting to feel right between them.

Steve slowly lifts an eyelid to find out for sure—no time like the present, and all that—and the sight of Tony sleeping just inches from his face confirms what he had feared. It’s hard to explain how he knows it’s Tony and not his multiverse counterpart, but Steve simply does. Even asleep, they both have a different energy to them.

A fierce longing followed by a gross shame falls right into the center of his chest. Somehow, even after what they shared last night, Tony feels worlds away. Steve can’t explain how wonderful these last few months with Antonio had been, but there was always something missing. Maybe it was that after years of trying to pretend that he wasn’t interested in anything more with Tony, being with Antonio made it clear that it was all he wanted.

Steve can’t do this anymore. He might never get to have Tony, but Antonio deserves better than just being Tony’s replacement.

He sits up. He’ll have to get Tony to leave before he has the conversation he’s dreading with Antonio, but as he looks at him, Steve almost doesn’t want to wake him. He raises his hand, ready to gently shake him, but Tony slowly opens his eyes and begins to smile. “Hi,” Tony says, and he sounds rough, making Steve feel some remorse for last night’s perfect blowjob.

“Hi,” Steve echos and can barely raise his voice above a whisper, he’s so thirsty. Tony must know, because he raises himself into a sitting position and pours a glass of water, takes a sip, and hands the rest to Steve. The water is warm now, but Steve feels a comfortable affection for Antonio’s commitment to thinking of every need they might have.

Tony pours another glass for himself and Steve watches him while he fights all the questions that keep springing to his mind. He finally picks one and says, “Where’s Antonio?”

Steve tries not to read into the way Tony’s smile dims. “He left last night,” Tony answers and it looks as if he has something to add that he refuses to say.

“Oh.” Steve can’t tell if he’s relieved or disappointed. He settles on a mixture of both.

“So… last night,” Tony says after a while and it’s almost a question. “That really happened.”

Steve takes a long sip of water. “Yeah, it did.”

“How are you feeling?” Tony asks.

“Fine,” Steve answers reflexively but Tony just gives him a look like he knows but isn’t going to push him. Steve decides to say it, anyway. “It was…” He wants to say _good_ , because that’s simple and generic, but it’s not the truth, so he says instead, “Memorable… in a good way, I think.” That makes Tony smile, and that smile makes Steve bolder. “But it also made me realize some things that I think I should deal with as soon as possible.” With that he pushes himself off the bed, acutely aware that he’s still naked.

Tony’s expression is hard to read. “You should do that,” he tells Steve, and Steve feels the same strange sense of being off balance he felt most of the night. They both get dressed in silence, and Steve itches to say something, anything, but nothing sounds right in his head. He’s about to leave when Tony breaks the silence. “You know, you can call me today, if you want,” he says, and then hastily adds, “though I’ll understand if you don’t.” Steve tries to make sense of why Tony would say that, but Tony doesn’t elaborate. Steve is almost out the door when Tony grabs him by shoulder, looks him in the eye, and says, “And just so you know, I missed you, too.”

Steve feels his face heat as he thinks about the context around what Tony’s referring to, but it also makes him smile. He nods and doesn’t break eye contact until he turns to leave. If Tony’s friendship is the best thing he can get, he’ll gladly take it.

**Author's Note:**

> The story ends with the implication that 616 Steve and 616 Tony are going to get together, but both Steve and Antonio are planning to break-up before that happens. Everything ends amicably. 
> 
> The title is from the song Beat Down by Mister Heavenly. The lyrics are _I want a three-way, but just for the conversation (there’s a lot more things to say that way)._ Seemed apt.
> 
> [Tumblr Post](https://msermesth.tumblr.com/post/169984325009/just-for-the-conversation)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Little Less Conversation](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13562535) by [ladyshadowdrake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyshadowdrake/pseuds/ladyshadowdrake)




End file.
